


In the Mood for You

by srmiller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Actress Clarke, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, THIS IS THE FITH FUCKING TIME I'VE TRIED TO UPLOAD THIS PLEASE LET IT WORK, Writer Bellamy, tv show au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: “I mean, we’ve had Merlin punch the Loch Ness monster so having Lynn kissing another girl doesn’t seem unreasonable.”He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, response wise, but the suspicious stare wasn’t on the list. “Problem?”“I thought I’d have to fight you about this.”“Sorry to disappoint you, I’ll remember to argue with you next time.”





	

“I want to kiss a girl.”

Bellamy looked up from his computer where he was double checking the last known location of King Solomon’s temple to see the star of the show he worked on, Clarke Griffin, barrel into his office without knocking.

“I’m certainly not going to stop you,” he informed her flatly, looking back to the screen. Just because he worked for a fun, and some might say silly, fantasy show didn’t mean it had to be inaccurate. “I mean, it was kind of rude to come in here without an invitation but the fact you’re the star on a cable tv show should help counteract that.”

He saw Clarke nearly took a physical step back before she made two fists and walked toward him instead. “I meant on the show.”

“Oh,” Bellamy looked up at Clarke and considered. “Okay.”

She looked briefly shell shocked. “Okay? Just like that?”

“I mean, we’ve had Merlin punch the Loch Ness monster so having Lynn kissing another girl doesn’t seem unreasonable. I was kind of just staying away from romantic relationships in general but it seems like the next place to go now that we’re getting into season three.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, response wise, but the suspicious stare wasn’t on the list. “Problem?”

“I thought I’d have to fight you about this.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, I’ll remember to argue with you next time.” He saved the links he was looking at and grabbed a pad of paper from the pile at his elbow and moved thing around on his desk until he found a pen.

“Who do you want to make out with?” he asked as he gestured to the one empty chair in his office.

She gingerly sat down and pressed her knees together in a gesture he attributed to debutantes and southern belles. “Well, I mean, I-“

“Jesus, Clarke, I’m talking about your character, not you personally. I’m not interested in who you do or do not want to make out with in real life.”

“I spent like ten minutes trying to come with a speech to convince you to let me have a female love interest, I didn’t think I’d get to a story today.”

“That’s what you get for assuming. There’s a lot interest in you and Morgana, or we could introduce a new character.”

“Morgana’s the villain.”

He grinned. “All the better for a story, don’t you think? Standing on other side of the end of the world but wanting to be with each other?” He started nodding to himself and making notes, “Yeah. There’s some parallels we could draw from ancient Greek mythology.”

He flipped the paper and started on another, murmuring to himself in a way which he absently remembered pissed Octavia off.

“I don’t want to be in a relationship.”

Bellamy eyes flew up and he saw probably more than she’d wanted him to. Panic maybe, and he understood why. They’d had an actress the season before, on her way up in Hollywood, and while she was filming some of the most important scenes of the season she’d quit and walked out leaving Clarke and the entire show in the lurch.

Rumors had come out, started by the actress herself, that she’d been having an affair with the show’s star. Which would have been titillating enough if said star wasn’t the daughter of a famous movie producer.

Everyone on the show knew it had been a ploy to get more press but that didn’t make it any less awkward for the person in the middle of it.

“I get that,” Bellamy agreed carefully. “I mean Lynn only just started coming out of her shell after grieving the loss of her guardian, the first time she ever flirted with anybody on the show was that soldier a few episodes back so I think it would make for a natural progression for her to kiss somebody. Nothing serious, just a ‘this me learning to live again’ type of thing.”

He leaned back in his chair, “How does that sound?”

“Honestly? I’m kind of pissed because you said it better than I could.”

Bellamy knew his grin was that of the shit-eating type, but it couldn’t be helped. “I know you guys think of me mostly as an asshole squint who cares more about the facts than the characters, but I’m good at my job. I promise.”

There was the hint of a smile behind her smirk. “Admittedly, you are kind of an asshole.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t,” he shrugged. “But I’ll talk to Harper about writing those scenes and I’ll follow up to make sure they’re what makes both of us happy.”

She stared at him as if he’d just spoken Tagalog.

“What?”

“Who the hell are you?”

 

 

Figuring out Bellamy Blake had become Clarke’s mission over the next week. She started talking to the people she’d seen with him in the past, trying to get a sense of who he was but with each conversation the image got blurrier instead of clearer.

His reputation had been one of a hard ass, meticulous in the historical aspects of his show. Determined that if anyone was only half paying attention they’d still learn something while they laughed and rooted for the hero to win the day.

That’s the impression she’d always had, of someone walking on to set to inspect the props and the dialogue and getting irrationally mad when they were wrong. Clarke now suspected what she’d considered to be a complete inability to delegate or let go was just unfettered passion.

She’d watched videos of him at a small convention where he’d gone off on a dramatic tangent about a former empress named Lucilla who had been part of a plot to kill her brother. It had caused a strange reaction in her, to see him so worked like that.

Clarke might have called it attraction if she hadn’t sworn off sex and relationships.

But looking at him now as the cast and crew celebrated the end of the first half of filming, he did look uncomfortably handsome in his glasses and smile, hair falling over the frames.

Someone had turned the music up, while a group of people had raided craft services for soda and cake and passed the contraband around. It was easy to get into the party mood when vacation was just around the corner for most of them.

Clarke had been happy to hang out and play games, dancing with her costars until the song switched over to a popular summer hit and the bottom fell out for Clarke.

“I’m going to get some water,” Clarke murmured even though no one was really listening to her. She’d just go to her dressing room, she thought, wait it out and come back later with an excuse about calling her mom.

Then, inexplicably, the song stopped and another started playing.

“What the hell, Bellamy?” one of the makeup artists yelled. “I like that song.”

“And if I have to hear it one more time I’m going to start committing felonies,” Bellamy called back.

Clarke looked from the girl to Bellamy and when her eyes locked with his, he gave her a short nod before heading to the set of a palatial mansion set a little ways away from the party.

Changing her direction, Clarke headed towards him. “I didn’t realize you knew, but thank you.”

“It’s my job to notice things,” he shrugged off, seemingly embarrassed as he leaned against the fake windowsill. “Makes me a better writer.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Things like the fact I once dated a guy before he was in a world-famous boyband?”

“I’m friends with Raven,” he said by way of answer and the pieces fell together for her.

“Raven, right.” Clarke leaned against the windowsill next to him, close enough she was almost touching him. “I was talking with her the other day about how surprised I was you agreed to the kissing thing without any argument.”

“Do I seem like that much of a bigoted asshole?’

“No,” and that was true enough. “But not every writer is willing to take the risk.”

“To what? Represent actual fucking people in the actual fucking world? People are dipshits.”

“On that, at least, we agree. Anyway, I was talking to her and she just shrugged and said that’s who you were. I didn’t know she’d gotten hurt in an explosion, but she said you did so when we did that big bomb for the season finale last year she was the first person to know about it so she could decide whether or not she wanted to step back for that episode.”

“PTSD isn’t a joke,” he informed her, and he looked marginally offended at the idea anyone else would have done things differently.

“No,” she agreed companionably. “But assholes also don’t ban alcohol from set and form AA meetings for the cast and crew to make sure they have a place to go despite our crazy schedules. Jasper told me.”

“Dick,” he muttered but there was little heat behind it.

“I already knew about meetings, but it never occurred to me to wonder who might have set them up in the first place.”

“My mom was an addict,” he admitted, voice low.

That was something she hadn’t heard and she wondered if he’d told anyone else on set. “Japer, Raven, they’re just the start of a list that includes putting Monty who was having a hard time coming out to his parents with Nate who’d struggled with the same thing a few years ago and  helping Harper find a place to stay when she left an abusive relationship, and I figured something out.”

“What?”

“You’re not an asshole squint, you’re Oscar.”

“Oscar,” he repeated, his voice deadpan.

“Yeah,” Clarke confirmed with a hard nod. “He’s Lynn’s guardian and he acts like he’s too tough to care but he was ready to give up his life for my and Monty’s characters.”

“I didn’t give up my life for anyone.”

“You raised your sister.”

His head turned to look at her then, his eyes sharp and lips a thin line. “Who told you that?”

“You did.” Clarke turned so she was facing him even though he was still leaning on the windowsill, body faced towards the room. “I read up on you after our meeting and there aren’t a ton of articles where you talk about your personal life but someone at a con asked you who the inspiration for Lynn was and you said your sister. You talked about how brave and fierce she was and you told a couple of stories of her from when you were kids and I was enough of a latchkey kid to recognize some of those stories.”

“So you’ve got me figured out, huh?”

“No,” she admitted. “In fact, I think the more I know about you, the less I understand you.”

“I’m not that complicated, Clarke.”

“Maybe not,” she conceded. “But I think you’re fascinating.”

There was confusion on his face and in a way it broke Clarke’s heart. Who had taught him that none of his heroes were worth a fraction of who he was? What set of circumstances had allowed him to walk through life not believing his words lived and breathed and had a heartbeat? When had he learned to look at himself as nothing but a squint instead of something vibrant? Where were the people in his corner, and why was the idea he could be captivating so unbelievable to him?

Clarke had long ago stopped following her instinct in matters of the heart since the last two times she’d done so had ended tragically, but there was something about Bellamy, something about what she’d thought then and what she knew now.

This wasn’t some headlong dive into the unknown, because despite not knowing the whole of him the pieces she knew were of someone passionate, and strong, and steady.

He’d be someone to hold onto in a storm, and just as importantly she thought he might need someone like that in his own life. Someone to take care of him and be there for him and Clarke, she’d never been needed by anyone in her life.

She thought maybe Bellamy Blake needed her.

“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss a girl?”

He looked suspicious of her question but answered. “Yeah.”

“Well, I do. But only as Lynn.”

“Okay.”

“As Clarke, I’d really like to kiss you.”

His eyes widened a fraction before he pushed off the fake wall, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards one of the door which led to a small backstage area.

Clarke giggled and hoped the noise of the party was enough to keep anyone from noticing their absence. “I thought you didn’t care who I wanted to kiss in real life?”

He pushed her lightly till she was backed up against the wall, stepping closer with a look in his eyes which made Clarke’s heart race.

“So, me letting you kiss a girl, that’s what brought all this on?”

She shrugged, tried to make it look nonchalant. “It started it.”

“I should have had Lynn kiss Morgana in the pilot.”

Clarke laughed and pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket. “It wouldn’t have been the same.”

“Seriously, though. Why now?”

“Because it turns out you’re a good man,” Clarke answered honestly. She tilted her head, felt the hint of a smile at the corner of her cheeks. “And it turns out I’ve got a thing for bad boys who are good men.”

“Well then, princess, looks like you hit jackpot.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer and tried not to smile as he kissed her because yeah, she kind of thinks she did this time.


End file.
